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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27228136">When the leaves start falling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/riashishiria/pseuds/riashishiria'>riashishiria</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/syusuke/pseuds/syusuke'>syusuke</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Children of War, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Family Feels, Gen, Naruto Founders Week 2020, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Touka gives great hugs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:13:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27228136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/riashishiria/pseuds/riashishiria, https://archiveofourown.org/users/syusuke/pseuds/syusuke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The war has formed all of them. Battle and loss demanded them to stop feeling. To stop showing emotions. But what actually happened? What happened before their body and souls hardened, before they became unreachable?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Senju Hashirama &amp; Senju Touka, Senju Tobirama &amp; Senju Touka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When the leaves start falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a collab with the amazing riashishiria! I wrote the short and she made wonderful art for it!<br/>For the family prompt and Foundersweek2020!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With her last cousin reaching fighting age and Hashirama </span>
  <span>exerting all his influence</span>
  <span> in the council, eventually overruling the Elders, Touka had finally been allowed to join the guards. Not the specialized mission teams like Hashirama, not recon like Tobirama, not the frontline like she asked. The guards. But she trained too hard and fought too long to not see it for what it was: a chance to prove herself. A chance to show her clan head that she was just as hardened by war as any man and  twice as determined to assert her position as a shinobi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fought too hard to risk it all for useless emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shinobi died young. That was her reality. Some were outnumbered, some lacked crucial intel and some were specifically hunted down. Every member of the Senju main line was a potential target, a bargaining chip if kept alive or a source of intel via torture. Touka remembered her father begging uncle Butsuma to hide his sons from the world, to let them grow up in relative safety. They’d learn the way of war early enough and how to survive on a battlefield. Butsuma was a man of pride and tradition though. He let the whole world know about his closest family, their signature moves and potential. He wanted everyone to know how strong their bloodline was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Butsuma didn’t even flinch when an Uchiha tossed him the severed heads of his older half-brother and nephew. It happened shortly after he announced Itama’s birth and Touka was reminded how lucky she was. Even in his death her father protected her by denying her existence. No one outside of the clan knew about Butsuma’s niece and her knack for genjutsu. No one looked to a woman for the Senju’s genjutsu specialist. It was not in spite, but because of this that Touka stayed on track and never doubted becoming a shinobi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touka knew loss, she knew grief, but she decided to mourn in the safety of her own house. Father would not want her to give up, brother would tease her mercilessly for sacrificing her dream. So she used the pain as fuel, she used it as motivation to become stronger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was only one reason to lower the walls around her heart. It was dangerous and one day it might break her. But for her baby cousins she could be strong, she could soothe them. Even more so after Lady Senju’s death when the four boys had to live in a much colder home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pointed Hashirama’s mind towards his dream of peace again and told him to care for Itama who idolized him. She sparred with Tobirama in quiet understanding and held Kawarama at night when the boy could no longer hide his pain. He was still a child, he was allowed to be weak, even if Butsuma did not let him. Touka could be strong for both of them and no one learned about these nights apart from Tobirama. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two brothers looked so similar that at times it felt like they were one person split into different aspects of a whole. A dutiful son, a soldier. And a boy forced to grow up too quickly and desperately clinging to any warmth he could get. Tobirama was ever silent, showing up before sunrise to take a sleeping Kawarama from her arms and carry him back to their shared room. Her fingers itched to pull Tobirama back and hug both of them, to keep her loved ones close, but his eyes betrayed what he couldn’t admit. He needed the pain and the anger. It was what kept him going and Touka understood. She understood too well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Repressed grief had a way of biting you in the ass though. Something Touka never considered as she climbed the ranks and made captain of the guards. A rank well-earned, in spite of all the prejudice against the weaker gender. She thought the grief made her stronger, more determined, more motivated. She would train relentlessly to protect her loved ones. She would earn a position to shield them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when she ran ahead of her patrol on that cloudy day, as her heart clenched at the familiar sight of worn-down grey armor, unmistakably Senju made, she sped up even more. When she was close enough to see the distinct cross-shaped scar on a boy much too young for the stillness of death, her mask of indifference slipped. Immediately, she realised her mistake and with every last bit of self-control in her body, she shoved the emotions down, down, down…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her men could not see her lose control. Not now. Not ever.</span>
</p><p><span>Quick hand signs conjured up a genjutsu that neither of her subordinates could avoid or even notice. Touka rushed to Kawa</span> <span>’s side and held him tightly. She buried her nose in his hair, taking a deep breath before she placed one last kiss on the top of his head.</span></p><p>
  <span>One. Two. Three heartbeats. Then she schooled her features into an emotionless mask again. She rose with the latest victim of this damned war in her arms. The genjutsu dissolved  slowly and with it the mist that had clouded her men’s vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenshin, run back. Report to Lord Butsuma and only to him. Hurry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touka was relieved when he obeyed with a sharp nod and left immediately. Jiro and she were to return at a slower pace. Neither of them mentioned the missing limb or the message written in blood. Touka felt her body starting to go into shock and this couldn’t happen! She couldn’t think about it when she was already hanging on by a single thread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Captain, I can carry..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“NO!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head vehemently, clinging to her control. No, this was the last time she could have Kawa close. She knew Jiro was trying to be kind, to ease her pain. But no one could spare her this horror and she couldn’t let him know. He couldn’t know that her heart lay in shards that nothing save of a miracle could ever put it back together. No, she had to focus on her anger!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wanted revenge. She wanted to find the child hunters and tear their throats out with her teeth! She wouldn’t allow them to get their next target. Never. She held onto that red hot anger as it burned the words into her memory anyway, no longer afraid it could break her control.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Demon is next.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was shortly after sunrise when Touka finally washed the blood of her armor and allowed herself the sweet embrace of sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was several hours after Hashirama had stormed into her house and demanded details she would not give. If Butsuma decided his remaining sons should not learn about the bloody message, then she would obey. Hashirama had been angry and desperate. He wanted answers, wanted reasons. But there was nothing Touka could tell him. This was war. Going for future threats as long as they were young and vulnerable was a common strategy – one the Senju used too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hashirama had shouted at her about being heartless and cruel. He had damned her to hell and back for remaining calm and Touka had steeled her heart, waited. He was allowed to be angry, he needed to shout at someone, because he couldn’t shout at the one he wanted. He hit raw spots more than once, but she was determined to let him. She could take it and let him rage. She thought she could forgive and forget anything spoken in grief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like you and Tobi never loved them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment he said it, his eyes went wide and he started to apologize, tried to take it back. But it was too late. Touka fixed him with her coldest stare. Her voice cut through the silence like a freshly sharpened blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out. Leave now or so Kami help me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hashirama swallowed visibly before he turned around to leave. He already had his hand on the door, but hesitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry… at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>get angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His knuckles turned white, chakra spiking in a way that was barely restrained and Touka had to brace against its force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tobirama just..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hashirama relaxed his iron grip and took a deep breath. It was as if the anger was bleeding out of him, showing what he kept hidden underneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said it’s the nature of war. Father told us and Tobi just- he just nodded and went back to his training. I wanted to go after him, but Itama was crying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touka crossed her arms, signalling clearly that she was done with this conversation, but there was more. There always was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s slipping away from me. I don’t recognize him anymore. It’s like he has no feelings. The Uchiha call him a demon and I’m starting to think-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touka moved past him, pushing the door open and gesturing for him to leave. Hashirama had a wife waiting for his return. A wife who loved him with all her heart and who would help him grieve and eventually he would move on. Touka knew about his dream and it would get him through this as it had helped him to overcome Lady Senju’s death. He could dream of a future without war for his children and their children and the generations coming after them. Hashirama would forget Kawarama, as he had forgotten Lady Senju. Not because he didn’t care, but because a single life paled in comparison to the future he wanted to build. He could not dwell on the past. Hashirama’s eyes would remain where they had always been, set on the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew she could trust Mito to care for Hashirama and Itama. She would keep both of them out of Butsuma’s house, at least until the funeral. Then Itama would have to return to his father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touka was needed elsewhere. In a room filled with mementos where the ghosts of the past were threatening to suffocate the inhabitant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hashirama and Tobirama were so different, sometimes it was hard to believe they were brothers at all.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Touka disarmed the traps with practiced ease and slipped through the window. The house was dark and loud snoring assured her that Butsuma was asleep in the next room. She had long decided that the bastard could suffocate on his secrets and hidden plots. He had sent all her loved ones to their death. Her father, her mother, her elder brother, his own damn wife. She had no love for the man. Only respect, begrudgingly granted for his strategic mind and prowess in battle. But she was not here for her uncle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could feel eyes on her. Tobirama lay there stiff as a board, dutifully in his futon. He didn’t say a word. He simply followed her steps with tired eyes and Touka knew it was more than a lack of sleep. The sparse moonlight was enough to make out his unmoving face, would be even if it didn’t reflect off sickly pale skin. She knew why. For months he had taken any mission fit for a child, running himself ragged to keep Kawa and Ita home. Tobi was good, he was fast. But he was still a kid himself, no matter what he said. Even if Butsuma refused to see it, even if his walls were high enough, his mask was convincing enough that even his older brother could be fooled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother, her heart clenched painfully at the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What kind of cruel words did Hashirama have for him? What made him retreat in here where the pain was almost palpable?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touka lay down next to her cousin. He didn’t fight her when she pulled him into her arms. With his head tucked under her chin, she began to sing softly. Kawarama had often asked her to sing and now no one would dare to ask. With Kawarama she buried a part of herself. The dutiful daughter, the reluctant cook, the closest thing to a mother the boys ever had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was burying it, just as Tobi buried his emotions, but it could wait till tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both deserved one last night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p>
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